Other Voices
by Metal Mewtwo
Summary: He is the strongest Pokemon on Earth, the protector of an entire city, and a hero to one young girl. Now a dark force within himself threatens to destroy it all, and plans to take humanity with him.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes**: I must admit, it's been quite awhile since I've been able to find the time to write anything and actually be able to commit to it. However, I hope this story to be different. It definitely marks a more...darker tone than anything I've written before, and I'm also looking forward to devoting an entire story to my favorite Pokemon subject.

So, with that, I hope everyone enjoys this short, but hopefully entertaining, prologue. I promise the chapters themselves will be much longer. (This part was originally going to serve as an introduction to Chapter I, but I felt it better stood out as a stand-alone prologue.)

Note: Right now, I'm rating this story as PG-13, but depending on what direction I decide to take it, that rating may go higher. Just a little heads-up.

* * *

_**Prologue**_

* * *

"Come on! Hurry it up already!"

The masked figure's words were harsh and straight to the point. As he once again glanced outside of the doorway which he was guarding, he told himself they still had plenty of time. At least, he hoped they did. Better safe than sorry, though.

"What's taking so long?!" he once again shouted at his partner in crime. The second masked hoodlum, though, paid no attention to the shouts directed towards him; his only focus was on the frightened shopkeeper who stood only inches away on the other side of the convenience store counter. Shaking, with erratic movements, the aging man fumbled to remove the cash from his register, all the while never taking his eyes off the cold steel of the handgun that was pointed straight at his forehead.

Through the opening of his mask, the gun-toting crook cast a discerning glance at the terrified clerk. It was obvious to all in the room the patience of the robber was nearing its end. Slowly, ever so slowly, the second he began to pull back on the gun's trigger. The sound of fire was inevitable.

"Here, take it!" the shopkeeper shouted, thrusting the bag of money at the masked man before him. "J-just take it all and leave me be!"

The robber grabbed the top of the sack. With the money now in hand the hands of his attackers, the old man figured his troubles were over. The two crooks would take the money, split before the police showed up, and his life would be spared. The villainous man before him, however, had other ideas, as he still held his handgun firm. It remained pointed at the shopkeeper.

"Forget him, man!" the robber positioned at the door shouted. "Let's get the Hell out of before the cops show up...or worse, The Shadow."

The second robber rolled his eyes at the pleas of his partner. His belief in that popular urban myth was truly disturbing. The cops, while rather lackluster in this part of town, were still somewhat to be feared. But a rumor of a mysterious superhero? No, that was just nonsense on the mind of the second robber.

After a few more tense moments, the robbers made their move. With cash in hand, they bolted out the door, leaving an exhausted shopkeeper to collapse to the ground in relief.

As the sound of distant sirens began to slowly reach their ears, the two crooks dashed down Fifth Street before darting into a nearby alleyway. One fence hopped and two more alleyways later, they finally came to a stop, figuring they were far enough away and well enough hidden to catch their breath and bask in the victory that had just achieved. The two removed their masks and pulled the opening of the bag loose.

"Looks like we got a decent haul this time!" the first robber exclaimed as he looked into the cash-filled sack for the first time.

"Yeah, not bad," the second, more reserved robber added. "Now let's get back to the hideout before--"

His words were cut off by the sound of an ominous wind. The cold chill suddenly filled the late summer evening air held within the back alley. As if sensing another presence with them, the two robbers quickly drew their handguns and positioned themselves back-to-back. Pointing their firearms all around, ready to fire at a moment's notice, they struggled to see a target.

"Who's there?!" the second robber demanded. His strong words echoed through the alley before quietly dying out.

No response.

"We...we must be imagining things," the first robber said, though unsure of the words he had just spoke. "I-it's nothing."

Before his partner could even speak, both robbers felt their bodies suddenly being slammed up against the opposing brick walls that lined the sides of the alley. They struggled to move, struggled to cry out in pain, but were unable to do either. They were pinned by some unseen force.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, the force was gone. The two crooks could feel their bodies slamming hard into the concrete below them, temporarily stunning each of them. As their senses slowly returned and the two raised their heads, the sight of a large, imposing figure stood over their bruised bodies.

He stood as still as the shadows from which he had emerged. Covered from nearly head to toe in a brown clock, the only visible parts of the mysterious figure were his oddly-shaped, white-colored feat and his glaring, indigo-shaded eyes. His presence alone seemed to emanate a powerful aura. He was unlike anyone the bandits had ever encountered before.

Quickly, ignoring their initial fear, the robbers staggered to their feat, eager to confront the vigilante that they assumed was responsible for the punishment they had only seconds before endured. They were not allowed a chance, as they immediately found themselves suspended in the air. Their eyes widened as the ground beneath them began to slowly move further away from their feet. Without any control over their bodies, the crooks could only watch helplessly as they were sent flying through the wooden fence that had previously served as the end to the alleyway.

Their bodies crashed into the street, pieces of wooden debris showing around them onto the pavement below. An oncoming car quickly swerved to avoid them, narrowing missing their nearly unconscious forms.

His senses barely holding out, the second robber caught only a slight glimpse of his attacker in the glow of the street lamps. The flick of a purple-colored tail surfaced from beneath the cloak of the mysterious figure before he disappeared into the shadows of the night from whence he came.

And as the sires grew louder and the police cruisers arrived swiftly onto the scene, the robber lost consciousness and the flashing red and blue slowly faded into black.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. The Shadow

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who took the time to review the prologue to this story. Your support and critiques are always appreciated and I do take them into consideration. I know that first part wasn't much, but don't worry, this chapter should more than make up for it.

* * *

_**Other Voices**_

A Pokemon FanFiction

By Metal Mewtwo

* * *

_**Chapter I – The Shadow**_

* * *

_Saffron City: it is a metropolis know for its vast skyscrapers, diverse population, and scenic parks. The perfect planned city. A technological marvel dotted with the lush beauty of Mother Nature. To many who enter its gates for the first time, Saffron may seem like the most ideal big city in the entire world._

_They, however, do not see the whole story..._

A lone sheet of newspaper fluttered in midair, suspended by the early morning winds circling through the corridors created by the tall building on either side of the street. The gusty breezes darted the paper from side to side, up and down. It blew it down to the sidewalk before pushing it in a southerly direction. Past a stop sign, back into the air, dashing and floating past several speeding automobiles, then back towards the concrete before finally entering a dark back alley.

_All who visit this supposed "urban paradise" are only shown the cheery parts of town: the downtown core, Inner City Park, the Saffron City Gym...any and all places which were designed to please the eye._

_However, visitors are generally ignorant to the plights of the Lower-East side of Saffron. It is in this dirty, run-down section of town where you'll find all the grimy parts that make this city run. It is a place where those the municipal government sweep under the rug go to reside. It is a place where law enforcement is scare, and where crime bosses and drug lords run free..._

As the winds in the alley dissipated, the newspaper came to its final rest at the feet of a cloaked figure standing in silence within the shadowy alleyway. Slowly he bent down to pick it up, raising it to eye-level. The headline "The Shadow Strikes Again!" followed by the subheadings of "Another robbery foiled by cloaked vigilante" and "Could city hero truly be a Pokemon?" were printed clear as day upon the front page.

_It is a place where **I** have become the law. For too long, the good people of this part of town have been ignored; left to suffer at the hands of those who wielded the power. For too long, this city has been overrun by the corrupt, the greedy, and the evil._

_No longer..._

The dark figure allowed the paper to escape his three round, stubby fingers. The newspaper once again entered the air, caught up in another swirling updraft. Slowly it drifted back towards the street, perhaps for another curious seeker to gaze upon its contents. And as he watched it float away, the cloaked figure retreated back into the depths of the darkness, his glowing eyes ever watchful.

_This is my power. This is my purpose. I am the defender of the weak, the protector of this city, and the most powerful Pokemon in the world. I...am Mewtwo._

* * *

__

Almost five years had passed since the events that took place on New Island. For the immediate two years that followed, Mewtwo had called a lonely, yet beautiful, Johto region mountain his home. Once more, however, he felt it was time to more forward, and left that place for another destination.

He traveled from one place to another, from one city to the next. Traveling by moonlight, he kept to himself and kept to the shadows, where he felt he belonged. And all the while he searched. He was not searching any particular place, person, or material thing. What he yearned for was a purpose.

Finally, after years living that nomadic lifestyle, he found himself passing through Saffron City, deep within the heart of the Kanto region. He felt no particularly strong reason to be drawn to this large metropolis. To Mewtwo, it was merely like every other manmade settlement; a jungle of human misery, pain, and worst of all, confinement.

_Humans..._

Mankind: the very species that gave life to an ancient piece of fossilized DNA. An altered form of it, but life nonetheless; a life that Mewtwo found himself living. Day-in, day-out, it was a wretched existence to be sure. Every day, waking up, asking the same tired questions. Every night, falling to sleep, wondering exactly the same thing. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, there seemed to be no answers. And there was only one place to put the blame...

_Humans._

How Mewtwo's blood would boil at the mere thought of that two-syllable word. Precious few of that species had shown him anything that justified their existence of this planet. To Mewtwo, they were only a self-serving species: they took what they needed and then more. They destroy the natural beauty of the Earth and think nothing of it. They injure, kill, and annihilate their own. They fear what they do not understand.

Pokemon do no such things. Pokemon lived only off what they needed, and used their unique powers to feed the land. They killed only out of survival, not of sport or hatred. _They _were the superior species on this world.

And yet what disgusted him the most was that he could not call himself either. He was more human than any Pokemon, but more Pokemon than any human. His capacity for intelligent thought rivaled humanity's greatest geniuses, yet his genetic blueprint had "Pokemon" written on every strand of DNA.

The words of a long-ago acquaintance now rang hollow in his mind. If every human and every Pokemon were indeed one-of-a-kind, then why could he not stop himself from feeling this way? Why did such feelings of isolation still resonate through his soul? Why could he not feel a sense of belonging alongside the other inhabitants of this world?

_Humans._

Yes, it was because of them he constantly told himself during his travels. They had brought him into this world to be nothing more than a scientific experiment; a mere test of genetic cloning. His survival of the process, noted as simply a "miracle" or a "fluke" by his creators, did nothing to halt these feelings. He longed for a true reason for being. He longed for his real purpose in life.

And just when it seemed all hope was lost; when Mewtwo ultimately questioned whether or not he would ever discover that purpose; he came across...

"Hello?"

..._her_.

A young girl carefully maneuvered herself through the seemingly endless shadows, aided only by what little light was allowed to shine down from above the rooftops. She walked around puddles, old boxes and crates, and various other discarded rubbish as she pushed deeper into the forgotten alleyway, nestled between several abandoned warehouse buildings. A pair of watchful eyes were trained on her every movement from a hidden balcony up above.

"Anybody home?"

Her trek further into the abyss was halted as she felt a cold wind behind her. Slowly she turned herself around, and there the young girl was met by those same glowing eyes that had previously watched her from afar. They towered over her, the figure they were attached to now blocking her only exit from the alley. She was seemingly trapped.

"Oh, hello Mewtwo!" she said cheerfully.

Mewtwo's eyes widened and filled with a bluish hue, signaling use of his psychic powers. The five lamps that were positioned at various locations immediately switched on, illuminating the psychic Pokemon's urban lair.

"Thank you!" the young girl spoke again. "It was pretty dark in here."

"Yes," Mewtwo replied, "it _always_ is."

Her name was Andrea. She was an eternally optimistic lass of 12 years, and the two had grown close since their first encounter several months ago. For both of them, it was a day that would change their lives forever.

It was on the fateful day that Mewtwo first arrived in Saffron City. There seemed to be nothing here for him; he was merely passing through on his greater journey. But, when he happened to come across Andrea, being harassed in a street corner by a group of thugs for simply taking a wrong turn, something changed within him. The whole incident seemed...wrong. Mewtwo knew very well that he should care nothing for what was about to happen to that young human. However, something inside of him was telling to him act, to make a difference. He didn't know what, didn't even take time to question it. He simply acted.

And so, in the blink of an eye, he summoned forth his awesome psychic abilities and quickly dispatched of the street punks. Badly beaten and fearful of their lives, they quickly turned and left the young Andrea, though still frightened, ultimately thankful for her survival.

It was soon after that Mewtwo learned the story of the girl who had had saved that day; of the first human that he, though still in disbelief of, actually _cared_ for. The tale of her life was not a pleasant one, though to Mewtwo's surprise, one he related to quite well.

Andrea was truly all alone in this world. She was an orphan; had been for almost her entire life. Her parents, far from the wealthiest people in the world, were forced to live in this low-income, but crime-ridden, section of town. That was, until, they found themselves in the wrong place and the wrong time; gunned down in the middle of a fierce gang war that boiled over to its peak. With no other family of her own, Andrea had been forced to take up residence in one orphanage after another.

As Andrea related her story to the mysterious Pokemon that had saved her life, Mewtwo himself started to feel new emotions surface deep inside. He felt, of all things, _compassion_ for her. For him, it was an emotion he had sworn never to feel for a human being, but the circumstances of her life seemed to change that belief.

Other long-standing beliefs that he had held towards her species soon began to dissipate in the days and weeks following their first encounter. As they spent more time together, Mewtwo could see what a truly amazing person this young girl was. She was so carefree, so innocent. Despite her roots, despite the terrible things she was forced to endure, she seemed almost oblivious to all the evil that surrounded her everyday. Never did she see the dark side of things; her attitude was always positive, her outlook never bleak.

She, as Mewtwo came to realize, was a person of truly noble heart; far from the ill-hearted individuals responsible for his creation and subsequent abuses. A person like her did not deserve such a fate. A person such as this young girl who had befriended him deserved safety and a bright future.

And, if a human such as her did exist, there must be others, Mewtwo reasoned. Such a revelation truly opened his mind, and his heart, to the other species with which he shared this planet with. Even though he had been shown this by another of pure heart so many years ago, finally the black void within his heart had truly begun to fade. It had been removed by this one kind soul.

From that eye-opening day evolved his alter-ego. Nicknamed "The Shadow" by the press (mostly due to the fact that he rarely left the shadows to fight his enemies), Mewtwo took to the streets of Saffron, protecting those humans who only wished to live a life of happiness from those who wished to take that dream away. This, Mewtwo realized, was the destiny he had been searching for all this time. He was the only one who had the power to make a difference, and thanks to Andrea, he saw just why it was worth it.

"Here, I brought you something," Andrea said, holding up the basket which she had brought with her on this visit. Mewtwo took it from her outstretched arms, peering inside curiously.

"They're cookies," Andrea explained, her trademark smile plainly visible upon her youthful face. "I made them myself, just for you."

Mewtwo took a sniff of the contents inside, and then slowly lowered the basket's lid back down. "Thank you," he said, trying to hide his displeasure. "I'll eat them later."

As much as his ideals about humankind had changed in recent months, one still remained: they're cooking hardly agreed with him. However, he never had the heart to tell Andrea different, and begrudgingly accepted her generous offers whenever she presented them.

"I heard about the robbery you stopped a few days ago," Andrea said, finding a sturdy crate to sit upon. "I'm so proud of you, Mewtwo."

"Don't be," Mewtwo said, turning his back to her as he placed the basket of cookies down on a self-constructed table. "I was only doing my duties."

"I know, but even the most secret of heroes deserve some credit. You could have gone a little easier on them, you know. I read in the paper they were pretty beat-up."

Mewtwo turned his head to her slightly, the one eye that had her in vision casting a rather cold look upon the girl. "I do what I have to," he said. Indeed, that was something he felt rather strongly about. Humans whose sole purpose was to inflict pain upon others deserved no mercy. They certainly got enough of it from the flawed legal system those creatures imposed upon themselves, so Mewtwo thought it fitting to offer up a "fair" punishment before they got off easy from their own kind. That said, he knew how Andrea felt about violence, so he never let himself get too carried away.

"I guess," Andrea said quietly. "But, your powers..."

"I am** fine**," Mewtwo said rather furiously, his powerful telepathic voice echoing within Andrea's mind, causing her to be taken aback. She had obviously touched a nerve.

Mewtwo was very sensitive about the recent "problems" he had been encountering with excessive use of his psychic powers. Andrea knew it just as well, though seemed to have let it slip her mind on this occasion.

These problems had begun only a couple weeks ago, and so far had not proven too serious. Occasionally, Mewtwo would lose slight control over his abilities, though it would only last for a second or two. There was also the matter of his splitting headaches, caused seemingly whenever Mewtwo exerted too much psychic force at one time. These were odd sensations for Mewtwo, for he had always had complete control over his powerful mind.

He did not spend too much time worrying about, however. Mewtwo had simply written it off as some kind of "psychic cold" or other passing illness. He figured it would disappear in due time. He just hoped it did not continue to grow in seriousness...

"I...I think I should go," Andrea said, sensing that she had upset Mewtwo. Despite the close bond the two had developed, Mewtwo was still a mysterious character to the young girl. There was little she actually knew about him; he was rarely one to open up his thoughts and feelings. Still, he was her hero, and nothing would ever change that view.

Andrea rose to feet and walked towards the exit to Mewtwo's lair. Mewtwo himself remained in his statuesque pose, his back still turned to her. Andrea softly said "Goodbye" to her friend before silently heading back towards the mean streets of Saffron City.

Mewtwo quickly removed all light from his home immediately after she was gone. Alone in the darkness, he sat down upon the ground and began to meditate. In doing so, he hoped to focus his consciousness and allow himself to sense if any crimes were happening in the city at this very moment. It was through this that he was always able to be in the right place, at the right time, to protect the citizens of Saffron.

This time, however, something else filled his mind. The sound of a faint, wicked laugh entered his train of thoughts swiftly. It then exited just as fast...

Mewtwo rose to his feet, sensing a possible intruder within his base. His head swerved back and forth, his eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. However, a revelation soon came to him: that voice came from _inside_ his head.

No, not possible, Mewtwo rationalized. It couldn't have possibly been another telepathic voice. No other Psychic Pokemon besides himself was capable of human speech, and that laugh was certainly linguistic in origin. And it seemed familiar. It almost sounded like...

Mewtwo would not allow himself to think further on the subject. This was madness. Mewtwo conceded to himself that he must simply be imagining things. His mind was playing tricks of him; possibly a side effect of his recent mental lapses.

Satisfied with that answer, Mewtwo returned to the floor to continue his mediation.

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
